


Cigars and Constellations

by garyc0re



Category: Bully (Video Games)
Genre: Abandonment, Dissociation, Forgiveness, Friendship, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Minor Violence, No Smut, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Non-Graphic Violence, Panic Attacks, Pedophilia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, Recovery, Suicidal Thoughts, Therapy, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24815344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garyc0re/pseuds/garyc0re
Summary: Gary remembered his first taste of cigar. He remembered sitting by his window on the second floor, his legs dangling.
Relationships: Jimmy Hopkins/Gary Smith
Kudos: 29





	1. Cigars and Constellations

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this a super long time ago but yeah uh peep the tags, nothing graphic happens but i tagged non con just in case. kisses <3

His father's office was always filled with dust.

Gary wasn't sure why, as the rest of the house was always meticulously cleansed as if his father would drop over dead if it weren't. To Gary, it was almost fascinating, how the sunlight streaming through the window would catch on the individual particles of dirt and absolutely shine. Gary's attention would get drawn to this without fail, every time he would sneak in to steal one of his father's cigars.

Smith Sr. kept them in a wooden box. It was the only thing in the room that Gary particularly cared for, as it had a small dragon carved into the side, etched by skilled hands long ago. As his fingers drew over the carvings, he knew they were old, and it was only further proven by the creak of the box anytime he lifted it up to grab the bitter-smelling cigars from within. They smelled like wood chips. 

Gary remembered his first taste of cigar. He remembered sitting by his window on the second floor, his legs dangling. He could hear his mother's scream from the other room, viciously torn from her, glass breaking as Smith Sr. demanded to know who the _fuck_ was inside _his_ office, and who the _fuck_ took _his_ lighter. He remembered putting it to his mouth, the smokey tasting flavor singeing his tongue as he lit it up with the bright red lighter. 

The first inhale of smoke choked him, but it felt good, so he did it again. He could remember leaning further out the window as sobs filled the house behind him and thinking, _if only I could jump, right now, then I could meet God._

The same thought followed him throughout his life until he was utterly obsessed with high places. He would climb out the attic window onto the roof at night and watch the stars, memorizing the constellations. He knew all of them. There was Auriga, and Delphinus, and Draco. He counted all of the consellations night after night until he could tell you a map of the entire sky. He'd think how nice it must be to fly.

Other times Gary would climb a tree with Petey, or with Mandy and Zoe before they abandoned him, and would urge them up with a soft _c'mon, c'mon, please guys, we have to get to the top. It's going to be so beautiful._ And Pete's eyes would shine or Mandy would giggle and follow him up or Zoe would laugh, loud and long, and tell him _slow down psycho-boy, I'm coming if you'll give me a second._

Everything hurt when they left, dropping out of his life like flies and suddenly he only saw Zoe out at clubs with older guys where she refused to acknowledge he existed and Mandy would scoff at him everytime he passed her in the hallway. But he always had his constellations and his cigars, and the screaming that accompanied him everytime he returned home.

He nearly killed a kid in seventh grade one time, during a boxing match. _It wasn't my fault,_ Gary pleaded with his mother and his therapist and his coach, trying, desperately trying, to get them to see. He had only hit a little too hard, had only been a little too much, just as he always had been. But the kid was still laying there with blood pouring from his eyes and when Gary got back to school the next week he heard the news with a sickening jolt that he'd be transferring.

Gary wasn't right in the head, and he knew it. He could feel it under his skin time and time again every time he picked up his father's rifle to shoot at the neighbourhood mailbox, or when he accidentely bashed Chad's dog's head in ( _I didn't mean to!_ he screamed, _the dog was trying to hurt me! it was a mistake!_ ) He desperately pleaded for someone to give him some sembelance of a chance but once the system gave up on him it wasn't long before Gary gave up on the system. Why bother pleading with something who will think you're wrong, no matter what you do?

Jimmy barging into his life was like the first puff of that cigar against his lips and while his chest hurt and it was hard to breathe, he liked it so much that he could only toss back his head and laugh. Jimmy was suddenly a promise, something sacred that Gary could latch on to. Jimmy listened to his plans with more enthusiam than Pete had given him for months, and Jimmy didn't seem to care when Gary got to be too much. 

It wasn't until the thoughts came back that it all fell apart and he was heaving dry sobs in his bedroom as he pressed himself fearfully against a corner, anger and panic making his fists shake. _They were hanging out together, Pete had let Jimmy wrap his arm around him and they didn't seem to care he wasn't there and he was useless and they didn't love him and he was going to be abandoned again and again and again and there was nothing he could do to fix it._

Solution? Cut them out. It was easy (no it wasn't), it didn't bother him (yes it did). He didn't really need Pete anyway, didn't need Jimmy either, only needed himself. If anything he had taught himself through packs of cigars that whenever you were alone you were truely safe, safe from anything that could ever touch you.

_If this was safety, then why did it feel so awful?_

He thought about God as he stood on the top of the roof, shrieking pain at Jimmy like a maniac. And he knew he looked stupid and he knew he sounded crazy but he had to let go of this bullshit and suddenly he was spouting _if I hadn't of done this, you'd do it to me first_ and everything was out there except Jimmy didn't give a _fuck_ because he was Jimmy and he just wanted Gary to _stop_ but Gary was an explosion and he hadn't had his medicine in weeks and when he spouted out the insult he knew he had went too far as Jimmy's fist collided with his mouth and suddenly all he knew was pain.

If demons were actually angels then Gary wondered what he was as he plummetted into Crabblesnitch's office. He fluttered open his eyes, his breathing raspy and saw dust particles floating around Jimmy's face. He had fucked up but at least the particles still looked pretty around him, just like they had been in his father's office all those years ago.

He got locked up after that because of _course_ he would, it was only logical. Visitation came and went without anyone showing up and Gary could feel himself aching as he realized he had successfully chased away anyone who had ever wanted him, who had ever cared about him. He broke one night in his cell and curled into his bed, silently crying, pain blooming in his chest as he realized he was only a little boy pretending to be a man, not knowing what the word even meant yet.

Therapy was rough when you were known as the boy who nearly killed a person. He could feel all his therapists judging him before he walked into a room and it felt so awful and intrusive and before he knew it he'd snap at them ( _leave me the fuck alone, you don't fucking care, do you think my father wants to waste money on your pathetic shit? You can't even do your fucking job right_ ). He made three therapists quit by sheer violence and screaming. Every time he did so orderlies would storm his room and slam him down to the ground and he'd fight and fight but then the needle would be at his neck and they'd strap him down to the table and suddenly pain would blossom all over as everything went dark and all he could hear was his mother's scream as he thought about the shattering glass and his father's angry demands.

Nine months in and Gary was just tired, he was tired and he didn't know what to do. No one had come to visit him and fuck he was so _lonely_ and he wondered if it was his fate to die here when they switched his therapists and that's when he met Dr. Kendrick, who didn't look at him like he was a lost little boy but instead smiled warmly at him and gently rubbed his shoulders. The touch felt good and fuck if he didn't want just one hug or one good job so he complied to the nice doctor. Even Gary Smith had to rest at some point.

He didn't expect it to go so wrong and he didn't expect the doctor to put the white cloth to his mouth and he didn't expect to choke on the intensity of the chemicals and he didn't expect the soft voice going _relax, relax, you're just pent up baby boy_ and suddenly he was so fucking scared and he needed out he needed to get out he was sobbing and he couldn't die here not like this.

Months later he was able to find a knife on the doctor's table and he leapt at the chance, holding it close to him and screaming _let me go or I'll fucking kill you, do you think I have anything to lose? I don't have any fucking family I don't have any friends, I have_ nothing, _so you better release me right fucking now or I'll slit your fucking throat open,_ and the doctor, not stupid in the slightest, filed for Gary to get out on good behavior.

Integration back to Bullworth was just as shitty as he thought it'd be and every little scream or movement that was too sharp would have Gary flinching and going quiet. Everyone seemed to be waiting on him to do something but he didn't know what to do anymore and he didn't know what to believe. He missed the taste of cigars and the sight of the contellations in the stars above him.

He wanted to apologize to them when he saw them in the hallway but he didn't know how. He knew they were looking at him and thinking _why is he so quiet now? What's wrong with him?_ but he didn't know what to do or say until one day he bumped into Petey and nearly fell apart as he whispered _you never came, you never came to see me._ Pete fixed him with a look of pity and Gary could feel his eyes lingering on his collarbone - _I didn't want to, not after what you had become._ And Gary was left thinking about that for the better part of a week.

He hated himself but he was suddenly sure he had to make it up to Peter Kowalski if not anyone else, and suddenly he was back - _fake it till you make it,_ he thought as he laughed and poked and prodded but Petey seemed to see right through his act. It wasn't until Gary had curled against him in the living room that he broke and whispered gentle sorry's in a soft tone under his breath, promising that he'd try so hard to get better, that he just needed time and that everything was suddenly terrifying.

Pete said he understood but how could he, Gary wondered. Gary spent a lot of time picking at his skin after hours until one day Petey brought Jimmy along and, taking Gary gently by the arm, led him into the car where they took him to see a new doctor and got him set up with new medication.

They worked, for a while, and everything seemed relieving. Gary could finally press against Petey in the halls again and Jimmy had taken to gently patting his shoulder or holding onto his wrist as if guiding a small child. It felt nice to be herded like this. Suddenly Gary realized how lucky he was, to be let back in.


	2. Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She sighed softly. "It sounds like you may be developing PTSD. Have you ever tried going in for a trauma screening?"

"You know, you probably could've gone to this thing yourself. I mean, haven't you like - I dunno, been to therapy, like, thousands of times at this point?"

Gary tore his eyes away from the window to stare at Pete, who had both his hands on the steering wheel of the car. The shorter boy had his eyes on the road, hardly paying any attention to his ex-friend. Gary took in a sharp breath in the back of his throat as he stared at Pete's collarbone for a long moment, then looked at his face again.

"Yeah. I mean, I guess. But it's been a few months since getting out of the asylum and- and I don't know. I just thought it'd feel less overwhelming with you here." Gary tried to ignore the way his heart clenched. "You didn't have to come."

Pete's face softened, and he glanced at Gary, his brown eyes reassuring. "No, no, it's fine. I was just curious, Gary. It's been so long, I don't really know how you think anymore."

As Pete's eyes returned to the road, Gary turned his face back out the window. This new therapist had been recommended to him by Pete himself, actually, after Gary and him had had a conversation on the dorm couch, Gary telling him all the things that had been going through his head recently. The office was outside of Bullworth by about ten miles. At first a lump had formed in his throat, wondering if it was possible for him to even do this. Gary had never been able to leave Bullworth unless it was with his family, and he knew his father would never approve of him going. It would ruin the family name, or something. Plus, Gary didn't have his licence. But Pete had offered to drive him once he noticed Gary's week-long hesitation, and now here they were, out on the highway in uncomfortable silence.

It was November, and truth was, Gary had been trying his best to avoid having to do this. His experience in Happy Volts Insane Asylum had terrified him. But with senior year came harder classes, not to mention makeup work due to skipping out on his junior year. Plus with his ruined reputation came constant bullying, both from peers and authority. He wasn't even gonna mention college applications. It was exhausting, and then it was overwhelming, and then it was too much.

"I guess I've grown a lot." Gary mumbled to Pete. "Still can't drive, though."

Pete laughed. "Yeah, I remember that horror story you told me about the DMV guy not letting you get your licence in like, what, tenth grade? I think it was sophomore year, anyway, before everything happened. You said you crashed the car."

Gary winced at the story Pete recited back to him. "Aha. Yeah. That was me."

Truth was, he hadn't crashed any car. He had run a red light, and then a stop sign, and his instructor had looked at him and asked for his mental health history. Already showing signs of impulsive behaviors and violent thoughts, they had contacted his current therapist at the time and they had agreed that Gary shouldn't be allowed to drive. Legally. Ever. He was too unwell for it. Gary remembered the disappointment on his mother's face when she had told him he had been declared legally insane, so much so that he wasn't allowed to be a functioning member of society. 

_Not sane enough to be independent, but sane enough to get punished like someone with normal needs_ , Gary thought to himself and glanced at Pete. He felt guilty that he had lied, but he wasn't about to apologize now. Apologizing now meant unpacking why he lied in the first place, and unfortunately that reason was that he had ugly cried in his father's convertible on their way home from the DMV. Too embarrassing. Maybe another time.

"Gary, are you sure you're ready for this? I mean, I know I left super early, so maybe we could get something to eat? I dunno man, you just- I just want you to feel good about this. About reaching out for help, I mean."

Pete took in a deep breath and Gary turned to watch him as he talked. "Like, you've always kinda tried to reach out but everyone in Bullworth just fucking sucks so you always get shit on for it. Your therapists have always sucked, that asylum probably sucked, it all sucks. Bullworth doesn't care about you and I want to give you better but I need to make sure you're ready to receive better."

"Petey..." Gary mumbled, feeling overwhelmed from the emotions coming off of his best friend. Ex-best friend. Whatever they were now.

"I just want to make sure you're okay. So like, do you want McDonald's or not? I got paid today at my job, we can get a fry or something."

Gary felt a smile growing on his face, and he raised a hand to wipe his mouth, trying to hide it. "Yeah man. A fry would be dope."

Soon enough, Petey had turned into a McDonald's and parked the car. Before he knew it they were standing in line, and Gary was looking over the toys displayed for the kid's meals.

"When I was little I always wanted one of those stupid cars." Gary told Pete, pointing at the little toy truck they were selling. The line shuffled forward slightly, and Pete turned to look at him curiously. "My dad always said it was too childish, though. He wanted me to have books and fancy oldie movies such as _Forrest Gump_. Watching cartoons was for babies."

"Your dad's lame." Pete shook his head once, then twice. "Who could think that cartoons are bad?"

"I dunno." Gary laughed and bumped Pete's shoulder with his own. "I always, like, okay. Don't laugh at me for this, but I liked letting you pick movies, cause you'd pick Disney cartoons and they made me feel really happy."

"You always did like _The Aristocats_." Pete mumbled thoughtfully. 

"I think I had a thing for Thomas O'Malley, in all honesty. Maybe I'm a closeted furry or something." He grinned and Pete rolled his eyes.

"I think you have a thing for himbos. I mean, you've had a crush on Jimmy for what? Months?" Pete laughed as Gary's face turned red, and he could feel his heart in his throat, thumping hard. 

"Jimmy's... not my crush. He doesn't even- I mean, I haven't even- we haven't spoken, Pete." Gary mumbled in a low voice and his eyes burned as Pete looked at him, really looked at him, and then seemed to understand with a soft 'oh' as he looked away and nodded.

"I mean... he did lead you to my car, didn't he?" Pete asked, but didn't look at Gary. "Didn't you speak with him then?"

"Not about sophomore year." Gary groaned. "God, I really fucked up with him. I fucked him up bad, I fucked up our entire relationship and I don't know how to make it up to him."

"Just talk to him, Gary. I'm sure he'd appreciate it."

"Oh yeah, I guess I'm just supposed to walk up to him and go, 'sorry for almost killing you, James,' and hope he peacefully accepts that." Gary rolled his eyes. "Think logically, Petey. He's gonna be mad - furious, even - and he'll probably yell at me, and frankly, I don't have the mental energy for that right now."

"Well, I'm proud of you for giving it some thought at least." Pete got to the front of the line and put in an order for fries, handing the cashier their money. Gary thought about that for a long moment, about how someone was proud of him despite everything.

When they got back in the car, Gary stole a fry from Pete's hands and laughed at the scandalized look he got in return. He turned on the radio and practically yelled when Nirvana came on, setting to the task of singing _Smells Like Teen Spirit_ at the top of his lungs. Pete laughed at him, then joined him, and the rest of the ride was fun until they stepped out of the car at this new therapist's office and Gary was forced to confront a building he had sworn to himself months ago that he'd never step back into.

Pete let him hold his hand as they walked inside. The waiting room was quiet, almost deathly so, and Gary found that his leg was bouncing with anxious energy before a woman came out and called his name. He was seperated from Pete (who gave him a reassuring smile), and led into the back room.

Gary was traded off to a short, red-haired lady with piercing ocean-blue eyes and a scatter of freckles over her face. She had a tattoo poking out from the sleeve of her jacket, and regarded him with a friendly air that made Gary's head spin. The last time he had had a "nice" therapist - well, let's just say it didn't go so well. As Gary observed her, however, he kept thinking to himself how much she reminded him of Jimmy, and that was a comforting thought in of itself.

"Hello, Gary. My name is Adrian." She closed the door to the small room and led him over to a small couch that he sat down on, fidgeting with the sleeves of his jacket. "What brings you to my office today?"

"Well..." Gary chewed on his bottom lip and looked to the side, his gaze locking on an office plant. It had pretty leaves, and Gary wondered vaguely if he could touch them. "You see, my friend Pete took me to McDonald's today, and I was thinking about my dad. He didn't like for me to get the kid's meals as a child, and he didn't like for me to play with toys or watch cartoons, and I dunno, I think I grew up too fast. And it made me really sad, you know? I just, I've been realizing recently that I don't have to be so angry all the time, I don't have to be on the offensive, but now that I'm relaxing a little everything's been hitting hard."

"I see why you came, then." Adrian's voice was soft. "Parental issues dig deep, I'm glad you can open up about them so effortlessly."

"Yeah. Well, that and I spent twelve months in a mental asylum recently."

Adrian paused, staring at him. He could feel his face burning, and briefly wondered if he had said something wrong before she nodded. "Okay. And what was that like?"

Gary took in a deep breath. "It sucked. Like, really sucked, and now I can't seem to get it out of my head." _This isn't going to make any sense, she's going to think you're crazy_. "I used to not be afraid of anything, now I feel so scared all the time. It feels like people are watching me, and I'm really- I'm scared someone's going to like, hurt me in my sleep and sometimes I have these really intense nightmares about it and-" Gary looked away as he noticed Adrian's stare, his eyes burning for the second time that day. "Wow, this must all sound really stupid."

"No, no. Keep going." Her voice was reassuring, comforting, and he shifted, nodding.

"Sometimes if people hit me the wrong way I have these really intense flashes like stuff in there is happening again, and then I'll go days and it'll feel like nothing is real... it- it all feels like I'm watching a movie from my own body, like there's- there's stuff in front of me but it's not really there, it's just objects. It feels really strange saying it out loud, but sometimes it comes with these painful headaches and I just don't get it, I'm already on medicine for stuff but-"

"Gary, did something traumatizing happen to you in the asylum?" Adrian was looking at him very seriously, and Gary felt uncomfortable. He nodded. "Can you tell me what it was?" Gary opened his mouth to respond, but then slowly closed it again and shook his head once, twice. 

She sighed softly. "It sounds like you may be developing PTSD. Have you ever tried going in for a trauma screening?"

Gary felt his head spin. "PTSD?"

"Yes. It happens when a brain cannot process a painful expierence. Usually comes with flashbacks, nightmares, and in this case," she closed her eyes, "dissociation would mean a special case of PTSD called C-PTSD."

"I..." Gary looked down at his hands. "I had no idea."

Adrian looked down at her clipboard and wrote something down. "I'm going to make you an appointment for a trauma screening, alright? We'll have to see if that's what it is. I can't say for certain with just a one-on-one conversation, but if it comes up that you really do have this, it may be best to get it treated immediately before it progresses so far along that it affects your entire life."

"Does that mean I have to get rediagnosed with everything again? I mean, I'm already diagnosed with-"

"No, no, previous diagnoses don't have to be taken into account just yet. Let's just focus on this for now, okay?" She handed him a paper with an address, date and time on it. He thumbed the paper and then nodded. 

"Now, what else has been on your mind? We still have a good fifty minutes before your time is up."

\- - - 

He hadn't spoken a word to Pete since getting in the car. Pete had tried to talk with him, but once it was clear Gary wasn't saying anything, he had stopped and turned on the radio. Gary stared out the window, watching as the Bullworth sign passed by the car window. His chest tightened.

"Pete?" 

"Yeah, man?"

"Well, you see, I have another appointment next week, and I, um..." Gary tripped over his words and Pete was shaking his head.

"No, don't worry about it, man. I'll take you."

"I also have a- a trauma screening-"

"A what?"

Gary went quiet and Pete threw him a glance. "Gary, seriously man, a trauma screening? Why?"

"Adrian thinks I have C-PTSD." Gary fidgeted with the paper in his hand and shrugged as Pete's gasp sounded from beside him. "It's no big deal so please don't worry about it, I just-"

"Gary," Pete was suddenly pulling over the car, and Gary's heart thumped loud in his throat as he put it in park and turned towards him. "PTSD? What the hell happened to you? You've never shown signs of PTSD before, even with your dad."

Gary chewed on his bottom lip and shook his head once, trying to indicate that he didn't want to talk about it, but Pete continued. "Is it the asylum? Did you talk about it with her?"

"N-not a lot..." Gary whispered, stunned by the persistence of Pete's questions. Pete reached over to take his hand and squeezed it.

"Gary, are you okay? I mean like, what happened to you man?"

And then Gary was crying. Pete pulled him into an embrace as loud sobs wracked his entire body, and Pete murmured comforting things in his ear, brushing his fingertips through the taller boy's hair.

His sobs eventually faded into sniffles, and he felt exhaustion weighing down on him heavily. He still didn't speak, but Pete didn't push him too anymore, which made him feel a little guilty. Eventually he offered, "I don't think I can talk about the asylum. I don't think I'll ever be able to."

"It's okay..."

"I don't know what's going on either. You're right. This is new and it's scary and I don't know how to handle it. I promise I'm trying I just..."

"Gary, man, stop. It's okay." Pete sighed softly and squeezed his shoulder when he pulled away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

"It's okay." Gary wiped his face and they looked at each other. Pete smiled faintly at him and then pulled away to start the car.

By the time they got back to the school, night was beginning to fall. Gary dragged himself out of Pete Kowalski's car, exhausted, and Pete walked around to hold his hand and lead him inside the gates. When they reached the dorm's doors, Gary could see Jimmy sitting on the steps, spinning a yoyo in his hands absentmindedly. Gary stopped abruptly but Pete tugged him along, whispering reassurance.

"Hey Jim." Pete greeted, and Jimmy looked up. He stood, still shorter than Gary, and looked at their hands twined together with an air of curiousity.

"So, how was therapy?" Jimmy finally said, his voice joking yet serious all at once. Gary planned on letting Pete do the talking before Pete pulled his hand away and shrugged.

"Let Gary tell you about it, man. I got stuff to do." Pete stepped around Jimmy and entered the boy's dorm, and suddenly Gary was panicking in front of his ex-friend turned enemy.

"Um." Gary shifted his weight and rubbed a hand over his face. "I-"

"Have you been crying?" Jimmy reached a hand up to touch his face and Gary practically froze, surprise rippling through him. His face burned as Jimmy's fingers brushed over his cheeks. 

"I don't see how that's any of your buisness," Gary murmured, but Jimmy only shot him an exasperated look and rolled his eyes. Taking Gary gently by the wrist, he steered the taller boy inside and led him towards Gary's room.

Gary felt his heart in his throat, not knowing how to respond to any of this as his brain took a mental check out. Jimmy let him go once they were by his own dorm room and then shrugged, looking a little lost himself.

"Look man, I know we aren't on the best terms right now, but I can't hold grudges against someone who's like, actually struggling and trying to better themselves past that or whatever. Grudges are tiring anyway. I just want you to know that like, Pete told me you've been struggling and I'll do anything I can to make sure you don't collapse and cause another schoolwide riot, alright? Don't let it get that bad again. I'm not making the same mistakes twice."

Gary didn't know what to say, processing this new information briefly. "Thank you..." He finally said. After a brief moment of silence Jimmy jerked his head in a silent nod, then turned and walked away, leaving Gary on his own again.

**Author's Note:**

> https://schoolfullofmorons.tumblr.com


End file.
